


My Boy Lollipop

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/F - Category, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:11:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has difficulties with the terms of his relationship with Blair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Boy Lollipop

Okay. Here's another teabreak special, ie it was written on the fly at work today, so it's a hasty tasty. It's also just a tad autobiographical. 

The Sentinel etc belongs to Pet Fly and no copyright violation is intended. 

## My Boy Lollipop

by Jen Riddler  
c 7th May 1997  


Blair suckled upon one hardened teat after the other, alternating pressure, nipping as hands caught his hair and dragged him down again. 

"You like this, huh?" he giggled breathlessly, as his lover arched and danced beneath him. 

The door burst open suddenly, police raid style. 

Blair sat up, startled, sprung, as his date reached to cover herself. 

"Jim, you're back, early," he managed. 

"Yeah, looks like I am," Ellison accused darkly, stomping over to the kitchen, wrenching open the fridge, extracting a beer, slamming the door shut again so hard everything rattled while skipping the bottle top across the counter violently. It shot off the back wall and bounced on the floor, where he left it. 

He took a long pull of his beer and continued to glare hard at his flat mate. 

"Hey, Jim, a little privacy, huh?" Blair pleaded. 

"You've got your room," Jim announced, coldly. 

"You're right, he is a pig," Blair's girl hissed audibly, forced to dress under the intense scrutiny, snatching up her bag, shoes and knickers and stalking out. 

Blair just sat back on the couch, exasperated. 

"Thanks, Jim," he offered sarcastically. 

That did it. Jim put down his bottle of beer deliberately, picked up his keys and left. 

He had to get out. He had to hit something, and it was either Sandburg or the gym. He pushed the weights up savagely, muscles straining as the metal rattled. He'd pull his shoulder again, and he didn't care. This was the only way he could vent his feelings, discharge them safely, like shooting into a barrel of water. 

His feelings, his anger at Blair, the root of his trouble. Just casual, Blair had said. I'll still be seeing other people, he'd explained. I like being with you Jim. Let's see where it goes, if it goes. Take it one day at a time. I'll be seeing other people. 

Jim slammed the weights home. It burned. 

I can't stand it when people get jealous and possessive. I don't want that. I just can't promise anything more serious. 

Jim leant against the shower wall, letting the hot water pummel his back. 

I hate it when people think they own you. 

Jim's stomach tightened, the need twisting inside him. He knew he had no claim on Blair, nothing more than friendship, but it felt so good when they were together, so right. The touch of Blair's hand upon his skin was magic. The casual, knowing smile when no one else was looking, it was special. He treasured those moments. He'd never, ever, felt so comfortable, so at ease with anyone else before. Their love making was relaxed, fun; Blair always teased him playfully. He was such a novice, but Blair was cheerfully teaching him, guiding him. Blair never judged him, never expected more from him than he could give. It wasn't fair to want more from Blair. 

He paused at the door. Pinpointing Blair's heartbeat he deduced he was awake and sitting on the couch. Jim pushed himself into neutral and opened the door. 

Blair was holed up in a corner of the couch, hugging his knees, looking both chastened and worried. 

"You were gone a long while," he accused, softly. 

"I felt like a work out," Jim shrugged off his concern, tossing his keys in the basket. Blair could tell by the arc of the toss Jim had pushed himself too hard again. He always did this, took out his anger on himself. 

Jim walked right past him, barely glancing at him, straight up the stairs to his refuge. 

Blair paused for a moment, screwing his courage to the sticking place, then snatched up the liniment from the bathroom and started climbing the stairs. Blair, and only Blair would walk where angels feared to tread. 

"Jim," he called softly, standing on the top step. 

Jim was already stripped down to his boxers,glowering out of the window at the street below, blaming the traffic noise for his disquiet, absently rubbing at his shoulder. 

Taking anything short of being hurled bodily back down the steps as a welcoming gesture, Blair pressed forward, seating himself on the corner of Jim's bed, fiddling with the tube of liniment. 

Jim could smell it. He knew this was a gesture of goodwill, but he was so damn...angry? Hurt? Confused? Upset? He paced the wall away from Blair. 

"Talk to me, Jim," Blair insisted in that quiet, patient tone of his. Extracting information from Jim Ellison was like pulling teeth, harder even. He had to be the worst informant Blair had ever had to work with. Half of anything he said was invalidated by lies of omission. Blair had to run around quizzing other people and checking records to get even half an idea as to what made Jim Ellison tick. Perhaps the almost unbreakable puzzle was what made him so alluring. 

Jim twisted and squirmed in the spotlight. He couldn't tell Blair. He'd lose him. 

"Jim," Blair pressed, getting up and backing him into the corner. 

Jim had no where else to run, trapped. 

"Just not in front of my face!" he blurted out suddenly. "Don't flaunt them in front of me." 

"I'm sorry Jim, I didn't mean to." He reached for Jim, but Jim backed up further. 

"Jim, please," Blair tried, as Jim turned his back to him. 

Blair retreated a little at the rejection, as Jim tried desperately to school his emotions. 

The soft hand down his back short circuited his denial. 

"I'm sorry, Blair," his voice spilled out, strained. "I have feelings for you, and I can't stop them. I think about you a lot, more than I should. I think about how your hair feels like in my hands, your taste, your smell, how wonderful I feel when you touch me. I try not to let it bother me when I see you with other people, but it does. Then I say things to you, that I wish I could take back a thousand times. I know you don't want this, but I think I'm falling in love with you. I'm sorry. I can't help it. I can't stop it. I like being with you. I want to be with you more." 

The words just fell out of his mouth, he couldn't bottle then any longer. The hand on his back stopped for a heart sickening moment, then began warm, comforting circles. He allowed himself to be gathered in those special arms that made him feel so good. 

"It's okay, Jim. I understand. We could always do a threesome, you know," he grinned. 

Jim drew back, skittish again, and Blair stifled his own fantasy, soothing Jim back into his arms and into a mood of willing acceptance. 

"We'll just see where this goes, okay?" he promised, as deep a commitment as Jim was ever likely to get. 

Jim, desperate for any bone he was thrown, agreed, allowing Blair to press his lips against his own, Blair's hand to slid up his thigh, brushing deliberately across his growing hardness. 

As Blair's tongue pushed deeper, his hand slid under the band of Jim's boxers, his other hand skimming over the short, sharp hair to massage the back of his neck softly. Jim bowed his head, submitting to that touch. It wasn't hard for Blair to guide him down against the bed, shedding the boxers. Jim's hands hugged at his sides, buried themselves in his hair, stroked his cheek as he bent to kiss, then suck upon Jim, drawing upon him so exquisitely that Jim grasped at the sheets with a short cry and fell back, lost until Blair's soft voice called him back again. 

He blinked and found Blair smiling down at him. Blair just grinned and bobbed down for a quick kiss, a kiss that deepened as Jim held onto him, tight, never wanting the kiss to end. He could taste his seed on Blair's tongue. Jim's supertasting abilities had precluded the use of rubber early on, unless Blair wanted him to continue gagging and spitting during their lovemaking. Blair had promised to use protection everywhere else as a compromise. Compromise; it seemed to be the cornerstone of their friendship. Jim came up for air, feeling heady. Right now, he was grateful for every crumb of affection Blair tossed his way. How long would they last like this, well, Blair said they'd have to wait and see. This whole thing had been a few days, a week, then it became months. Jim had started to see years, even a lifetime. Blair couldn't, wouldn't be tied down, but Jim would do anything, just about anything, to try and keep him. He'd never thought he needed anyone, until he met Blair. Now he couldn't bear the thought of being alone. Of being without Blair. Wait and see what tomorrow holds. Close your eyes and pray like hell tomorrow won't be the day Blair tells you goodbye.   
  


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